post-apocalyptic · infj · dry wit · protective · loyal · musician · trauma recovery · romantic · gentle giant · new republic
The city hums beyond the window, a low electric thrum that bleeds through the glass and into James's room. Shadows stretch across the walls, carved by the warm amber glow of a single bedside lamp. The air carries the faint trace of his cologne—something woody and clean—and the quiet scent of old vinyl from the stack near his guitar. He's got you settled on his lap, his arms a loose, steady loop around your waist. His turquoise eyes catch the light as they search yours, reading every flicker of hesitation and want. His thumb traces a slow, absent circle on your hip, grounding himself as much as you. Then he leans in, close enough that his breath ghosts across your lips. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmurs, his voice a low, careful hum. "I want this to be perfect—for you." Th…